"Okay… now stand behind the line and throw," Hayato told Takashi.
Takashi took his paper plane, held it up to his forehead like it was some sacred ritual, and planted a loud smack of a kiss on its wing. "Go, Takashi Airlines!" he shouted as he hurled it forward with everything he had, face full of pure excitement.
"Stop naming your plane," Hayato muttered, shaking his head slowly.
It flew a little, did a wobbly back flip, and crashed straight into the ground with a sad little thud.
"Ha ha… ain't no one beating that," Takashi burst out, grinning wide, chest puffed out like he'd just won.
"We'll see about that," Hayato stepped forward confidently, shoulders back, and threw his plane. It glided a short distance and landed just in front of Takashi's crumpled wreck.
"Ha, in your face," Hayato smirked, pointing at Takashi with a smug little grin.
"No… Takashi Airlines," Takashi cried out, falling dramatically to his knees, hands clutching his head like the world had ended.
"Dude seriously stop naming your shit," Hayato grumbled, rolling his eyes hard.
"I'm next then," Tatsuya stepped forward lazily, stood behind the line, and held up his plane like it was no big deal, face bored.
"That's a weird looking plane," Takashi said, tilting his head, nose scrunched in confusion.
"Well, if it works, let it be," Tatsuya replied and threw it forward with a casual flick. It flew straight and smooth, crossing way past both of theirs.
Takashi and Hayato stood there shocked, mouths hanging open, eyes wide like they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
Tatsuya struck a cool pose, brushing his hair back with one hand, a small satisfied smirk on his face. "See that you kids, that's what real plane looks like."
"Tch, nerd," Hayato muttered quietly under his breath, cheeks puffing out in annoyance.
Tatsuya stepped forward fast, grabbing Hayato by his collar, eyes narrowing into slits. "What did you say you jerk?"
Just as both of them were about to start arguing, faces inches apart and fists clenched, Takashi called out to them.
"Hey, I've asked my mom if we could do a barbecue night with you guys," Takashi said with excitement.
"Oh, you shouldn't have," Hayato replied, voice flat, shoulders slumping a little.
"It's my pleasure," Takashi beamed, completely missing the sarcasm, smile stretching ear to ear.
"No, really shouldn't have dude," Tatsuya added, shoulders slumping even more.
"Too late dude, the plan is already in motion," Takashi replied, grabbing his plane off the ground with a little hop.
"I'm not liking the amount of socialisation I'm doing lately," Tatsuya sighed, picking up his own plane, face twisted in mild regret.
"Anyways, the one closest to us win," Hayato said, holding up his plane again.
"I might win this one," Takashi said, full of hope.
They all threw at the same time. Tatsuya's plane landed closest. "Huh, you just had to destroy the wings you idiots," Tatsuya boasted, striking his cool pose again, hair flip and all, looking way too pleased with himself.
"I hate this guy…" Hayato shouted as he stomped on his plane.
Later that night.
"So, why at my house?" Hayato asked as he watched his father grilling outside with Takashi's and Tatsuya's fathers, the smell of charcoal thick in the warm air.
"Cuz only your dad had the grill," Tatsuya replied, leaning back against the wall with a lazy shrug.
Hayato's head dropped with a long sigh, shoulders slumping completely.
"Well our parents seem to be having a good time while we sit here doing nothing," Hayato muttered, poking at the dirt with his shoe, clearly bored.
"Yeah, this day literally can't get more boring," Tatsuya sighed, staring up at the sky.
"Well if you're bored I could tell you a story from my childhood," Takashi offered, eyes lighting up with sudden energy.
Tatsuya and Hayato turned to look at him at the same time, faces already wary. "I like how you always proves me wrong," Tatsuya said, one eyebrow raised high in disbelief.
"Hey, what does that mean," Takashi blinked, looking genuinely confused.
"So you like reading books huh?" Hayato asked Tatsuya, trying to change the subject fast.
"Yeah, I read all kind of books," Tatsuya replied,
nodding a little, a small proud smile creeping in.
"Stop ignoring me," Takashi yelled as he jumped on them, arms flailing wildly, face red with frustration.
They started fighting, yelling and pulling clothes and hair, elbows bumping, feet kicking up dust in the yard.
"The kids seem to be excited," Hayato's dad chuckled, hearing the noise of them yelling, a warm grin on his face.
"Yeah, I hope they stay friends after summer break too," Takashi's father laughed softly, shaking his head.
The three of them suddenly got quiet and formed a circle, arms around each other's shoulders, faces close and serious for once.
"You guys are also thinking what I'm thinking right?" Tatsuya's father asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Yeah, more beers," Takashi's father rubbed his hands together eagerly.
Both of them looked at him with disappointment, eyebrows furrowed deep. "No dude, we're talking about putting them in same junior high," Hayato's father said, voice firm.
"Ohhh…" Takashi's father realized slowly, face going blank then sheepish.
"Good, we'll talk this through later then," Hayato's father clapped them on the backs, breaking the circle.
Takashi's father walked toward the beer bottles. "Anyone want one?"
"Yeah, I'll take one," Hayato's father raised his hand quickly.
"What will you have Mr. Hiroshi," Takashi's father asked.
"Vodka martini. Shaken, not stirred," Tatsuya's father said firmly, polishing the tongs like a pistol, flames flickering behind him, making his silhouette look ominous and dramatic.
Hayato's father grabbed a beer and walked up to him. "Well, too bad Mr. Bond, we only have beers."
They burst into loud laughter, shoulders shaking hard.
"Dinner is ready."
Everyone gathered around, plates clinking, the sizzling of meat filling the warm night air. Glasses clinked together amid chatting and laughter. The night was noisy.
But their life was about to get even noisier.